Jessica Jones (Netflix) is my favorite superhero.  Her wardrobe is more biker chick than Super Woman. She drinks alone. She uses belligerence and coldness to keep people at bay, hoping to sidestep entanglement. In fact, she considers herself a former superhero turned private investigator, where hiding in shadows and avoiding people is in the job description.

But a new job title doesn’t change her strength, speed, and ability to leap to high balconies. Nor does it change her deep streak of humanity that compels her to protect those who need her.

Want to be a superhero?

Pass.

Except you can’t help yourself, can you? Not if you care.

I know you can’t singlehandedly fell armies of evil-doers or pull wrecked buses off victims. But maybe you can get your loved one’s doctor to drop the medical-ese and talk like a normal human.  You may be able stay awake all night in the ER with your confused loved one, and still show up for work in the morning. I bet you’ve tolerated an inordinate amount of hold music and doggedly followed rabbit trails through the bureaucracies controlling our money and health.

Wouldn’t you rather just karate-chop a bunch of bad guys?

Yeah, but that’s not really what it takes. It takes patience and perseverance. You do what you have to for the ones you love.

Even when they aggravate the hell out of you.

Usually the caretaker’s biggest fights are with the ones they’re protecting. Ask Jessica. Her sister Trish, her nearest and dearest, resents Jessica’s protection. If you’ve ever tried to take away the car keys from an aging parent, you know the drill.  Trish would rather rely on Krav Maga training, a pistol, and attitude to get her through dire situations.  Inevitably she ends up in bigger trouble, forcing Jessica closer to her super-power limits.

And Jessica has limits. Even with her best efforts, she gets hurt. Others get hurt. They die. At one point, she even has to engage a super villain who is much stronger than her and forces her to  do unspeakable things. As a result, she suffers from PTSD, which she manages with alcohol, not mindfulness.

Is it any wonder we’re all reluctant superheroes? Jessica goes through the stages of grief every time there’s a call for help. Denial: It’s nothing.  Anger: Why do I have to fix this? Bargaining:Okay, I’ll help this one time. Depression: Damn, you’re going to keep needing my help, aren’t you ? Acceptance: Okay, game on and forgodssake stay put.

I bet you cycle through the stages of grief every time the phone rings.

Jessica Jones is a flawed superhero, but it doesn’t matter. We love her because she keeps showing up. And because her honest response to care-taking resonates with the rest of us who care for our own. Your loved ones love you, too. Even though they complain, rebel, and withdraw. They know you’ll keep showing up.

You all deserve to have your series renewed.

Whether you want it or not.